Agent Sherry Birkin, 1998
by AnonymousInsomnia
Summary: DSO agent Sherry Birkin, after the international fiasco involving the C-Virus, wakes up in the back of a police cruiser, accompanied by Leon S. Kennedy and Claire Redfield... Except they're not Agent Kennedy and Redfield of TerraSave, they're RPD rookie Kennedy and college student Redfield, and they're driving into Raccoon City in the year 1998...


**3/4/19**

**So playing through a bunch of Resident Evil 2 Remake made me fall back in love with the Resident Evil series, and seeing the wasted potential of Sherry Birkin in RE6 made me think of this little plot idea. **

**Read through and I hope you enjoy. **

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When Department of Security Operations agent Sherry Birkin regained consciousness, she immediately knew that something was wrong. For one thing, she was lying in the backseat of a car, not lying in the bed of her apartment. She could also hear the mumbling of voices in the front seat. From the way it sounded, there were two people there, probably her abductors.

Well, they were pretty dumb kidnappers if they thought that that trick would work again, not since China. The J'avo and Neo-Umbrella were going to be the last ones to ever capture Sherry, if she could help it.

Taking care to move as silently and imperceptibly as possible, she checked herself for her hidden emergency weapons, usually a dagger and a .380 pocket pistol hidden within a small holster at the small of her back. Imagine her surprise when she also found her duty sidearm still in her shoulder holster and a bayonet knife still attached to her chest.

Her handgun wasn't her signature "Triple Shot" burst machine pistol, as it had suffered damage in China that the DSO armorers insisted on fixing before Sherry could once again use her custom pistol on missions once again. Thankfully, Chris Redfield, BSAA legend, was kind enough to lend her his Beretta 93R burst machine pistol as an alternative.

Being that there were two assailants in the car with her, she needed two weapons to interrogate them. Moving quietly, her 93R slid out of her leather shoulder holster and into her right hand, and her Glock 42 from behind into her left, she opened her eyes and slowly sat up in the backseat. If these were kidnappers, they were awfully sloppy if they left her her weapons. In fact, she was wearing exactly the same stuff that she was last night: a plain black top and her tactical shoulder holster under a light denim jacket, along with blue jeans and combat boots.

Something here didn't add up.

Regardless, Sherry was going to get to the bottom of things. Suddenly, as the two people's mumbling turned to silence, she leapt forward, putting the Beretta to the driver's neck and the Glock to the passenger's.

"Tell me who the hell you are and what you're doing kidnapping a United States government agent!" Sherry shouted.

For a second, the car almost veered off to the side as the driver became startled by Sherry's sudden actions. Both driver and passenger yelped in startled fright, instantly identifying the driver as a young man and the passenger as a young woman.

"Jesus Christ!" that was the driver.

"Holy shit!" and that was the passenger.

For a second, Sherry thought she had a handle on things, but when the driver and passenger turned to face her, she immediately withdrew her guns in shock.

"Leon? Claire? What the hell is going on?"

Then she was in for a greater shock when instead of greeting her with recognition, both counter-bioterrorists drew their guns and trained them on her, though thankfully Leon kept his eyes on the road.

"I thought you checked the backseat," Leon said.

"I did! I swear there was nothing there!" Claire told him.

"Well there's someone there," Leon said, crossly, "and apparently we're guilty of abducting a government agent!"

"What a shit day," Claire muttered.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sherry asked.

"Well, that's what we're trying to find out in Raccoon City," Leon said.

"Wait, Raccoon City?" Sherry looked more closely at two of her closest friends. They both looked young. Like, _really_ young, compared to how grizzled and jaded Leon looked, and how hardened and tough Claire was. For that matter, Leon still had a VP70M handgun, and though Claire's Smith & Wesson Bodyguard revolver was unfamiliar, Leon had stopped using the polymer pistol shortly after the Raccoon City Destruction Incident. On top of that, the last time Claire and Leon were driving a cop car into Raccoon City, was...

"Leon, what day is it?" Sherry asked.

"How do you know our names?" Leon shook his head. "It's September 29."

"And the year?"

Claire raised an eyebrow. "It's 1998."

Sherry's breath hitched and she felt like she was going to throw up. _1998_? Sherry was back to _that day_? God, please let this be a dream.

"God, this can't be real, can it? Someone pinch my arm, I must be having a nightmare."

"Don't know why you'd think that," Leon said. "But this is damn real, for damn sure, as the zombies would be willing to tell you."

Sherry slowly holstered her guns again, and only then did Leon, not yet the experienced government agent, and Claire, not yet the TerraSave heroine, both stop pointing their guns in her face.

"Well, now that we're all in the shitter together," said Claire, "who are you, and how do you know our names?"

"... It's a long story. I guess you could say that your identities are subject knowledge of the US government. I'm Agent Sherry Birkin of the Department of Security Operations."

"I've never heard of that agency," replied Leon.

"Don't worry about it so much." By now, the cop car was well within city limits and in downtown Raccoon City, and Sherry could faintly make out a citywide public broadcast.

"_Due to the viral outbreak, citizens are advised to head to the Raccoon City Police Station..._"

"God, it's really happening again, isn't it?" Sherry murmured.

"Well, it looks like we can't drive any further," Leon said. Looking through the windshield, Sherry could see a roadblock had been formed by a massive amount of abandoned vehicles up ahead. All three of the survivors cursed their luck.

"We're going to have to walk," said Sherry.

"More like run," added Claire, as she could see zombies very close by, feasting on some corpse lying on the sidewalk.

But things would soon get quite worse, as from behind, they could see the bright headlights and booming sound of a powerful semi-trailer truck barreling down the road.

"Oh, shit, bail!" cried Leon. Just then, zombies had taken notice of the cop car, and were now making an effort to get at the humans inside, trapping them with their rotting, uncoordinated bodies and pressing their hungry, ugly, bloody faces against the glass.

However, this wasn't quite Sherry's first rodeo. With a snarl, she kicked open the door, her strength, derived from the latent G-Virus infection in her body, easily causing the zombies behind it to fall to the ground bonelessly and knocking the car door straight off of its hinges. The zombies on Leon's side of the car gone, the rookie police officer quickly yanked open the door and scrambled away from the car. Sherry moved to help Claire, too, once she left the doomed vehicle, but the college girl actually managed to free herself in the nick of time before the semi truck smashed into the car.

But then the whole thing just _had_ to explode.

Claire and Sherry were flung violently into the side of an abandoned sedan. Sherry couldn't assess Claire's health from where she lay gasping for breath, but the DSO agent knew that she'd broken a couple ribs, at least. Bruising was definitely there, too. No matter. Her G-accelerated healing would easily take care of something minor like this, in time, but for now, they had to get to that police station. Sherry knew it would be imperative to, as not only was it the one place in the city not swarming with monsters, but she knew a 12-year-old Sherry Birkin and a mysterious operative named Ada Wong were there, and both of those people would need protection.

Evidently, Claire's injuries from the explosion were minor, at best, as she was quickly able to stand, despite being in clear pain.

"Claire! Sherry! Are you okay?!" That was Leon, yelling to them from across the burning wreckage.

"Yeah, we are! How about you?!" was Claire's reply.

"I can't stay here, it's not safe!" shouted Leon.

"We'll rendezvous at the station!" Sherry interjected. "Come on, let's get out of here!" she told Claire, drawing her Beretta, selector set to semi-automatic.

"Okay!" the college girl replied, blasting a zombie in the head with her revolver before quickly following Sherry through the burning streets of Raccoon City.

The two of them ducked into a back alleyway which immediately opened up to reveal an old, almost gothic building with the letters "RPD" shining out in stark white light on the front.

"There it is, the station," said Sherry.

"Yeah, now let's get inside," replied Claire.

The two sprinted around a blue van and narrowly missed a handful of zombies as they crashed through the front gate of RPD. The two young women then shoved the gate closed and locked it with the riot bar. It was in the nick of time, too, as not a second later, zombies from the street started pounding against the gate, though fortunately to no avail. The bar held.

Turning away from the street, the two made ready to enter the RPD. Sherry went first, breaching the doors with her machine pistol at the ready, just in case something were to jump out at them, followed by Claire. However, in the Main Hall of the RPD, there was nothing. It was almost peaceful, in a way.

The two quickly set about looking for supplies, though there were little to be found. Claire did pick up a first aid spray that was lying on top of a crate, and Sherry found a few 9mm Luger FMJ cartridges on the front desk. Sherry's typical mission loadout consisted of her carrying at least a half dozen magazines of ammunition on her, so she wasn't exactly hurting for ammo.

"Hey, Claire," the younger Redfield turned to Sherry at the mention of her name. "Can your revolver shoot this stuff?"

"Is it 9mm?" she asked, which Sherry nodded "yes" to. "Yeah, I can. My brother, Chris paid a gunsmith to mill out my revolver's cylinder so it could shoot 9mm. He said that it would be more common than .38. Wouldn't you know, but he was right." Claire accepted the cartridges. "Hey, what's with that computer?"

There, lying in the back of the front desk, was an ancient (by Sherry's standards) laptop PC. It seemed that there was some sort of alert for the security system it was hooked up to. Sherry went up to it and tapped a few keys on its keyboard, bringing up a security camera feed. Both women watched as a surviving police officer tried to evade a zombie somewhere else in the building.

"David! Marvin! You there?!" the cop exclaimed. "I think I found a way out!" he added, holding up a tiny notebook at the camera. Unfortunately, his distraction enabled the zombie to get a little too close, and although the cop managed to get two shots off with his handgun, the zombie grabbed him. The cop was, however, able to shove the undead off, though his flashlight clattered to the ground, now useless. "Send reinforcements! East Hallway!"

Then, as the security feed stopped, a map of the east first floor of the RPD appeared, showing that the East Hallway was through the shutters to the right of the main entrance of the police station.

"Let's go help him!" Sherry said, leaping to rush to the shutter door.

"Yeah, who knows what could happen to that guy?" Claire added. She flipped the shutters switch, which unfortunately only served to open the shutters about three feet up, forcing Sherry and Claire to crawl underneath it to get past. Inside, it was pitch black, save for a few red emergency lights, forcing Sherry to rely on Claire's flashlight to see. They trekked onward, their boots splashing lightly on the wet floor. Wary of any surprises the doomed police station might have in store for them, yet urgently hurrying to aid the cop, the Sherry and Claire hurried along, only stopping to pick up a few 9mm rounds in the Press Room, to move a filing cabinet out of the way, and to pick up another first aid spray in the bathroom.

As they rounded the corner and were greeted by a little more light spilling from the Watchman's Room, they heard the officer's voice again.

"Open up! Hurry! Open this goddamn door!"

"We'll get you out!" Claire shouted. They rushed into the room, shoving the door aside, as they came across the shutters, which were banging and rattling from the cop.

Hooking their fingers under the shutters, the door only opened up about a foot. Sherry frowned, then put more effort into lifting the unnaturally stubborn door, and she was able to get it open to about four feet high, allowing the officer to be easily pulled through by Claire. Just as she did, however, several mottled, rotting hands and heads poked their way through from under the shutters, and it only took a second for Sherry to slam the shutters back down on them, severing the arms and crusing the skulls into paste.

All three of them stopped to catch their breath before the policeman spoke.

"You sure don't look like RPD reinforcements. Name's Elliot. Elliot Edwards."

"Claire Redfield."

"Sherry Birkin. And we're just trying to help, sir."

"Oh, believe me, I'm very grateful," Elliot said. "I'm pretty sure I'd be toast if you two hadn't showed up. Let's get the fuck outta here."

Just then, the Watchman's Room door started banging as something decided to try and make its way in. In an instant, Sherry's 93R, Claire's Bodyguard, and Elliot's Browning Hi-Power were trained on the door, which soon gave way to a sickly-looking zombie in a police officer's uniform.

"Dammit, Robert," Elliot cursed before firing a shot into the zombie's skull, which caused it to stagger back. "Quick! Run for it!"

They scrambled past the stunned zombie and into the blood-splattered hall beyond. Behind them, they heard a window shatter and a body tumble through - another zombie - which only caused them to quicken their pace.

Up ahead, another two zombies shuffled into sight. Claire and Elliot stopped in their tracks and fumbled for their guns. Sherry quickly aimed her Beretta at their necks, clicked her pistol to 3-round-burst mode, and let loose a burst at each that exploded what passed for their brains out the backs of their skulls. They flopped bonelessly to the floor, and the three of them made a break for the shutters leading to the Main Hall. Elliot was the first to slip through, followed by Claire. But as Sherry tried to crawl under the malfunctioning door, a zombie fell upon her leg, intent on making the government agent its snack. However, rescue came, with Claire kicking the zombie off of her, and a new person slamming the shutters closed on the zombie's head, reducing it to hamburger.

This new man was yet another face from the past, Sherry could tell. With dark, yet unnaturally pale skin, a police officer's uniform, and a hand clutching bloody bandages on his right side, he was a notable leader in the files supplied by Raccoon City survivors when things went to hell in a handbasket in the RPD.

"I'm Lieutenant Marvin Branagh," he introduced himself.

"Claire. Claire Redfield."

"Sherry Birkin."

"I see you've met Sergeant Elliot Edwards. Good work getting them here alive."

"Oh, they saved me, too. I would've been a goner had it not been for them."

That brought a ghost of a smile onto the lieutenant's face but for a brief second. "Well, that's great, and you have my gratitude for saving one of my men, but you shouldn't have come," he said. "But there's nothing we can do about it now. You're stuck here, and now you have to get the hell out of this city."

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**AN: **

**So here it is, a sorta time-travel story involving Sherry Birkin. Also, it's a Resident Evil fanfic that doesn't involve romance or sex (lookin' at you, AO3), so that's a rare thing indeed. I hope this is well received, but it's an idea I've been kicking around in my head for the last week. **

**Updates will be sporadic, at best, because of my college schedule, but here's hoping I actually finish one of my stories one day. Who knows, maybe it'll be this one? **

**As always, remember to Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow. **

**-AnonymousInsomnia.**


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